I put the tray on the windowsill and chased after Ryan. We ran in and out of rooms, with me “almost” catching him a few times. Then he led me down a corridor and disappeared behind a large oak door. I followed him and stepped into a light and airy self-contained flat, a spacious sitting room furnished with brown leather sofas straight in front. To the left, an open-plan kitchen and marble top breakfast bar and to the right, two shut doors.
Ryan jumped out from behind a sofa and I rushed forward, then put the brakes on hard, stopping myself from squeezing, kissing and holding him in my arms. Inhaling his little boy scent.
Ryan cocked his head. “Why can you talk to me with your eyes? Nobody else can.”
Direct, just like James. “Not your dad?”
He shook his head.
“It’s not a common talent,” I said. “Best not tell people—they don’t understand.”
“Granny doesn’t.”
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“Granny?” It was hard to imagine Francesca being given such a warm, loving title. A knot of jealousy formed in my stomach. No doubt she was the one who’d taught him to extend his hand politely.
“I’m Ryan.”
I shook his hand and a tingle went through my palm and straight to my heart. How should I introduce myself? “I’m P...uhm...”
“Pum?” he asked, delighted. “Your name is Pum?”
So Pum I was.
I forced myself to let go of his hand and looked at the classic seascapes on the walls. My mind sang my son, over and over, for once not giving me orders or trying to keep me on the straight and narrow.
“Is this where you live?” I asked, relieved my voice didn’t wobble.
“Me and Dad.” Ryan peered at me, blue eyes wide. “Are you crying?”
I made eye contact. <<It’s hay fever.>>
He shrugged and, in the way that children have, flitted from one topic to the next while, in the way that adults have, I only half listened. I was too busy drinking him in, listening to his voice and memorising it for later. Why hadn’t I kept my mobile in my apron pocket? That way I could have videoed him for a frame by frame replay later.
I followed Ryan as he showed me the flat, pointing to the large plasma television and pulling me to his other favourite object: the freezer side of the silver American-style fridge.
Wow.
James and Ryan weren’t just fans of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream, they had shares in the company by the looks of it. I didn’t let Ryan have any though, much as he begged. It was hard to resist his pleas but I distracted him by asking to see his room. It was behind the first shut door. A typical boy’s haven, it was decorated in greens and blues and plastered in posters of sporting heroes. Surprisingly neat.
Ryan rolled his eyes. “Dad makes me tidy up before breakfast and if it’s not done properly I have to do it all over again.”
“It’s neater than my room,” I confessed, peeking into the large en-suite bathroom.
Ryan smiled conspiratorially and opened his top drawer, revealing a stash of London bus sweets. A few empty wrappers stuck out between socks and pants. “If Dad saw this he’d go nuts.”
“He’s a neat freak,” I agreed.
“You know my dad?”
I bit my lip.
“Come see his new Jacuzzi,” Ryan said excitedly. He sped out of his room and into James’s and I followed, shutting the bedroom door behind me.
“Ryan,” I called. “I’ve got to get back.”
“It’ll only take two seconds and then you can go, okay?”
How was I supposed to resist his bright blues a second time? I hesitated just inside the threshold of James’s bedroom and looked around, feeling awkward. The room was masculine and functional, decorated in muted greys and black. He had a king-sized bed with built-in wardrobes to either side and a chest of drawers with a large mirror on top against the opposite wall.
I made a face. From my memory of the bridal suite I knew James liked black, but was this boring or what? Why not add pale blue and bright orange cushions on the bed, or on that leather sofa under the window? Or better yet, a potpourri of vivid greens and scarlet to liven things up? And I would add sumptuous curtains instead of those drab office-style blinds and...
And yourself, naked and waiting in the middle of the bed? my mind taunted.
Oh God, it was time to leave, Jacuzzi or no Jacuzzi. I opened my mouth to call to Ryan and heard muffled voices outside the flat’s door.
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“Shinto!”
That was my new substitute swear word and I whispered it frantically under my breath. I killed the bedroom light but I didn’t have time to shut the door all the way, leaving a gap of about two inches. Ryan’s eyes went wide at the sound of James’s voice. He put a finger to his lips and I did the same, as good as a signed contract. We were co-conspirators in the game of hide and hide.